


You And Your Schemes

by areyoukiddingme



Series: Victor Zsasz/Random Ofc's [6]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hostage Situations, Pining, References to Drugs, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23635810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoukiddingme/pseuds/areyoukiddingme
Summary: "This looks really dodgy.""It's just business." She responded defensively. "Now wait there as I strip off."~Zsasz gets swept up in a con gone wrong, far too busy acting with anything other than his head to realise what he’s getting caught up in.
Relationships: Victor Zsasz/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Victor Zsasz/Random Ofc's [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569697
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The plot of this is a train wreck but I just couldn’t help myself. Inspired by an episode of Hustle, after which I never could look at Ash in the same way.

"Just got a bum shipment of coke."

Zsasz lifted his eyes as a woman threw a baggie of a white substance onto the bar in front of him. The bartender didn’t even look over; as long as there weren’t any guns blasting holes into the walls or fistfights smashing the glasses, no-one would willingly kick out a paying customer.

Several patrons held their breath as the woman slipped onto the stool next to him. Victor Zsasz was given a wide berth at every place he entered, weapon drawn or no, and she had just completely flaunted that unspoken rule. But instead of flipping out, he seemed to welcome the intrusion. He gestured at the bartender who slid a drink over without question. 

"Just what I fucking needed." She spat, gesturing at the bag. "Some jackass left it out in the sun and my fucking mule got himself shot so I can't even break his knees and get a refund."

”So what are you going to do?”

When he looked over at her there was an expectant glint in his eye; he had known her for a long time and was one of the handful of people who knew her by her real name. Despite being a prominent drug dealer, she was largely unknown in Gotham’s underworld, not feeling the need to tread on everyone else’s toes trying to climb to the top of the pecking order. She was perfectly happy collecting her money and staying where she was.

Until she grew bored, that is. 

She had no trouble creating mischief, riling everyone up from the sidelines and then disappearing while they all looked for the ghost that had pissed them off. Sometimes she was gone for months at a time, not only to save her own skin but also to protect the anonymity that kept her out of so much trouble.

Zsasz always enjoyed when she was back in Gotham. Being one of the few people she was close to, she made a point to seek him out and catch him up on all that he had missed. It didn't really matter if it was a triumph or failure on her behalf, she had the capacity to make either entertaining. They had known each other for so long but hadn't ever slept together, which was only notable because it was a rarity among people who had known Zsasz personally for more than a week. There was something about this friendship that he wanted to preserve, to not let become just quick and dirty sessions in the bedroom, despite his sometimes painful attraction towards her. In short, he respected the hell out of her.

"I want to fuck someone over." She said decisively, raising an eyebrow at him. "Anyone pissing off the kingpins at the moment?"

It was the first time he had seen her for at least three months and she already wanted to make trouble. Zsasz thought that maybe she just didn't like being in Gotham that much. 

"Why are you asking me?"

"You know I can't stand politics." She huffed. "Your little birdie keeps you up to date, doesn't he?"

Zsasz sighed but a smirk graced his lips.

"Okay." He said, leaning towards her conspiratorially. "There’s this guy who just got his inheritance through and thought he'd start dealing. But he doesn’t want to play by Gotham rules and, from what I hear, a lot of people want him gone."

"Inheritance? So he's a little rich kid?" 

"Yeah. Entitled, cocky, you know the type."

"Perfect. I know just the thing to take him down a peg or two."

She looked over the bar as she took a swig of her drink and he watched as she got swept away in her own thoughts. The harsh line of his lips softened as he looked over her distracted features.

"What are your thoughts on blackmail?" She asked abruptly.

"Don't tell me you're planning something."

"Why?"

"Because I said the kid was bad, not that he needed to be disemboweled.”

"Don’t knock my schemes. They always end with me getting what I want, don't they?" Her nails tapped against her near-empty glass, he mind still obviously elsewhere. "I need to make the guy think he's winning, just so the defeat is even more crushing."

"You're twisted."

The word was a derogatory one, but the way he said it was quite the opposite; there was reverence in his voice, a certain appreciation for the darkness within her. She winked at him as she stood from her stool, leaving his side as quickly as she had come. He watched her retreating back as she threaded through the crowd, shaking his head as he returned to his drink.

He'd hate to be that guy, especially if she was dedicating time to planning his demise. He didn't have a hope in hell.

* * *

Zsasz's phone buzzed and the screen lit up with a name that instantly lifted his mood. Picking it up, he pressed the receiver against his ear to hear the female voice.

"I've thought of a plan." 

"Huh?"

"I said, I've thought of a plan." She impatiently. "Do you want to help out?"

"Sure."

He'd pitch in, if only for the story later. Besides, he enjoyed being around her, even if she did spark unwanted desire in him. 

"Awesome. I've found a guy on the inside, close to our mark but willing to turn on him for the right price. I’m going to get him to start circulating rumours that I've recently gotten married and my husband doesn't approve of the drug dealing business for a woman-"

"Nice."

"I know right? Just the sort of lie an asshole would believe. Anyway, he'll tell everyone that I just got a shipment of some really premium stuff that I'm reluctantly having to part with. But here's the kicker- the price is jacked up. And I mean _ridiculously_ high, so high that no-one in their right mind would ever consider buying it. We can’t let him near the real shipment, of course, and if he asks for a sample I'll give him some of my personal stash."

"We haven't broken into your personal stash in a while." Zsasz interrupted.

"I can't help it if you don't come to my parties any more, Zsasz." She said, almost bitterly. "So here's where you come in. I just got married, right? My guy in the inside shows the mark pictures of me in a wedding dress, hugging some dude wearing a ring on my finger, kissing him, whatever."

"And you want _me_ to play husband?"

"Shut up, I haven't finished. He really drives home how happy I am married and makes sure the guy sees my husband's face. And then someone- I haven't decided whether it should be the same guy or a someone else yet- shows our mark pictures."

He could detect the slyness in her tone even through the receiver and leaned forward in his chair.

"What sort of pictures?"

"Really raunchy ones. Either through a window or from behind a doorframe, as though we didn't know they were being taken. Maybe stamp the date in the corner to show it was recent- is that too much? I just want to make it really obvious that it _isn't_ my husband. And who more distinctive than-"

"Than me. I get it." Zsasz interrupted, his voice flat. "So how much of the cut will I be getting?"

"I thought you'd be doing this out of the goodness of your heart."

He let out a burst of incredulous laughter.

"Alright, ten percent. But you’re not getting any more than that.”

”Twenty.”

The line went silent and a smirk spread across his lips, despite her not being able to see it.

”Fine. But I'm not paying the other guy, so don't go bragging about it."

"Other guy?"

"Of course. Someone has to play my husband."

"And who are you getting to do that? Someone normal looking?"

His tone was harsh and she went silent again.

"I didn't mean it like that, Zsasz. You know that." 

The initial excitement of the call had vanished and was replaced with an uncharacteristic jealousy; he didn’t like the idea that maybe he wasn’t the first person she asked, that there were dozens of other guys in her phone that she could go to if he refused. And, more than that, the fact that she didn’t think he was husband material. 

"Whatever. Text me when you need me."

"Will do." She said, sounding too happy for it not to be forced. "Thank you for doing this. It's going to be fun."

He didn't respond as he hung up the phone. _Shit_. Cursing himself for not waiting until after she'd made the pitch to accept the offer, he brought his phone to his lips, running through her plan in his mind. She’d said 'raunchy', the last thing a man already having to restrain himself wanted to hear. He'd have to find some superhuman self-control from somewhere before the plan went ahead or he'd be devolving this friendship quicker than he’d intended.

* * *

Standing on the doorstep of a somewhat grand house in the affluent sector of Gotham, Zsasz looked up at the building in disbelief; wasn’t she supposed to be keeping a low profile in Gotham? It only made marginally more sense when he got close enough to see that the place was split into flats. Four doorbells were lined up below the intercom, each one in turn marked by a neat, hand-written label. The name written on the label to her flat wasn’t the same as the one he knew her by. Naturally. 

He pressed the doorbell and she greeted him through the intercom. He heard a commotion as she fiddled with the speaker, rushing to come down the stairs instead of simply buzzing him in. She smiled brightly as she opened the door, beckoning him inside. 

"I was expecting a footman." He commented as he passed her. 

The tone of his voice hadn't changed and those who didn't know him well enough wouldn't know when he was being sarcastic. She, however, had spent enough time around him to know when he was trying to be funny.

"Always so snarky." She rolled her eyes, closing the door behind him. "Come on up."

She started to head up and he fought to keep his eyes on the stairs as he followed, her hips swinging just out of his line of sight. When they arrived at her flat it was exactly as he expected; large and expensively decorated, the whole place looked like it had literally jumped from a magazine. Knowing her, it probably had. She moved so often it made sense for her to just point at a page and buy everything pictured, something someone with her income wouldn’t bat an eye at. 

Following her through the open-plan living room, they passed a camera set up on the landing. It was angled into a room which he discovered was a bedroom as they entered, the lens pointing directly at the bed. 

"I thought I'd do it from the doorway. From the window was too much hassle." She said, gesturing at the camera.

"This looks really dodgy."

"It's just business." She responded defensively. "Now wait there as I strip off."

He felt like choking as he watched her disappear into what he presumed to be the en-suite. In an attempt to distract himself, he examined the room for personal touches that betrayed the person who lived there. The profession that they were in rarely provided such opportunities and he was going to take full advantage of seeing her place. There were photos scattered around the room and he did recognise a couple of faces smiling out from the group photos, events hosted by their mutual friends that he hadn’t attended. He didn’t much care for parties unless they were dark, dark enough that you couldn’t see the face of the person right next to you, music blaring so loud that you forget where you are and when you started dancing. 

The door to the en-suite opened and he turned, his stomach sinking when he saw what she was subjecting him to. A babydoll nightdress that wouldn't look out of place on a poster advertising perfume or cars, the black lace framing her cleavage perfectly and the barest suggestion of underwear through the mesh skirt. It was somehow worse than if she'd stepped out in nothing at all. He struggled to keep his eyes on her face as she padded across the floor to him.

"You can just take your shirt off." She said, waving at him flippantly. "I said I wanted raunchy, not a porno."

She didn’t seem to have any issues displaying her body to him and he was almost envious of that. He was always hesitant showing his body off to new people, unless they were shitfaced or the lights were out. There were always comments, mindless comments on his condition, his scars or anything else that people deemed ‘abnormal’.

He unbuttoned his jacket and she moved to the camera, surreptitiously watching him over it as she adjusted the settings. Throwing the jacket onto the dresser, his hands moved to his shirt and her eyes seemed to focus in as he exposed more and more of his chest. He pulled the shirt from his shoulders and her eyes ran over his delicate collar-bones, down the harsh panes of his chest before pausing on his arm. Dozens of little scars marred the alabaster skin, neat little rows of tallies etched permanently into his flesh.

She left the camera and stepped towards him, opening her mouth as if she wanted to say something. Then she seemed to think better of it, her mouth snapping shut as she hurried past him to get to the vanity. He was almost disappointed; he had wanted a thoughtless comment from her, something that irritated him and dulled that desire for just a moment. But she hadn’t said anything and now he had to face feelings for her that strengthened with every passing moment. 

At the vanity, she picked up a ring and slipped it on. Then she picked up a picture frame, presenting it towards him proudly before setting it beside the bed, clearly in view of the shot. It showed her on another man's back, both laughing as he gave her a piggie back. They couldn't look more like a stock photo if they tried.

"Who's he?" He asked, focusing on the photo instead of her behind as she leaned over.

"Just someone from work."

"You mean a dealer?"

She bristled at the term, but nodded anyway.

"Yeah. He’s a dick, but he _looks_ like husband material."

Once she had angled the frame to her satisfaction, she clambered onto the bed and sat in the centre, looking at him expectantly. 

"How are you taking the photos?" He asked.

Lifting one hand, she revealed a button concealed in her palm. She pressed it and he heard the camera shutter behind him. 

"I thought it was better than scrambling with a timer." She said, grinning at the mental image. "I didn't want to bring in a photographer either. Then we really would be making a porno."

She patted the mattress beside her and he reluctantly climbed onto the bed- he couldn’t stall with questions any longer. She directed him to sit back, her hand on his bare chest as she pushed him against the headboard. His eyes flicked to her hand then back up to her eyes.

"Ground rules." She stated. "I'm not kissing you and you're not touching my breasts. Anything you're uncomfortable with?"

"I'll let you know if something comes up."

She nodded and lifted herself onto his lap, taking care to sit closer to his knees than pelvis. She adjusted his position with rough and business-like actions, angling his head so it could be seen in the shot, taking his hands and pressing them to her thighs. The camera flashed, catching his eye and she gripped his chin, forcing his gaze back to her.

"Look at me. Pretend you're consumed by me."

He bit the inside of his cheek. It would do no good for him to say how easy it would be to be consumed by her, if he let himself.

Closing his eyes, he tried desperately to focus on the task; they were trying to sell bum drugs, convince a man that they were in a steamy love affair. He exhaled heavily before gripping her thighs tighter, lifting his eyes and fixing her with a look that he hoped was suitably ‘consumed’.

"Perfect." She muttered softly and he heard the button click in the palm of her hand.

They tried other positions, his face dipped into the crook of her neck, her hands disappearing suggestively between their legs. The silence was palpable and the eye contact they were having to maintain forced the both of them into an intimacy that neither of them were comfortable with.

"Right, now get on me."

Her voice was soft, the business-like professionalism long gone as they shifted on the bed. Their positions now reversed, his thighs straddled hers as she pulled his hand around her back and arched herself into him. Her knee lifted as he dipped his head closer to hers. A smile spread across her face when she noticed that his eyes were focused solely on her lips. Pressing her chest firmly against his to regain his attention, his eyes darted back to her and his jaw flexed; her movements had only made him painfully aware how the only thing separating their bare chests was a flimsy strip of lace. 

Click.

He released her back, almost with a sense of relief as she released the tension she’d held by arching into him. He sat back on his knees, looking to the ceiling as he centred himself. His self-control was being stretched thin and she didn’t seem to want to make it any easier for him.

Feeling her wriggle from between his legs, he looked down to see her crawl across the bed and lean over to the vanity. The sight made his blood flow to all of the wrong places and he pinched the bridge of his nose, hard, to try and stop that from happening. Turning back to him, she held out two lengths of ribbon in her hands. He swallowed, the skin of his neck catching on his adam's apple. 

"You want me to tie you up?" He asked incredulously.

She didn’t answer, simply pushing the ribbons into his hands as she clambered back across the bed. Looking down at the red silk between his fingers he had the sudden urge to break something or kill someone. He cracked his neck in an attempt to release some of the tension building within him. It didn't help.

Turning back, he saw her already holding her arm to the bedpost, waiting for him to restrain her. He sighed heavily, hoping to show his distaste for the act before approaching her and wrapping the ribbon around the bedpost.

"People _do not_ fuck like this." He muttered as he struggled with the knot.

"You don't tie women up?"

His lips thinned and he kept his eyes on the ribbon. He couldn't tell whether she was deliberately trying to get a rise out of him or just being curious, but either way, it wasn't helping.

"Not with fucking ribbons." He said through gritted teeth.

“No? What do you usually use then?”

He looked at her darkly, the same look that most people saw before they died at his hands. 

“C’mon Zsasz, indulge me.” She continued, most definitely teasing him now. “How is this any different from what you usually do?”

"I'm usually rougher."

He bit his tongue, feeling an immediate rush of remorse. He shouldn’t have said that, not when he was trying so hard to restrain himself. A smirk twisted at her lips as she looked up at him and he fought to keep his features neutral as he finished the knot he was tying. Sitting back on his knees to check over his work, she flexed her wrists, her eyes still glittering as she discovered that her restraints were neither too loose or too tight.

"You're good at that."

She revelled in the darkness that overtook his eyes again. Victor Zsasz was stoic, unflappable, even standing under a rain of bullets. The very concept of Zsasz flustered was ridiculous. And yet he seemed to be struggling, his throat anxiously constricting and eyes wandering. He didn't even have a witty comeback.

“Let’s get this over with.” She muttered, urging him towards her.

He shifted closer, taking care with his hip placement as there was a very real risk of betraying his arousal. The very last thing he needed right now was to press his half-hard cock against her thigh. He could practically hear her laughter in his ears, the mocking comments she would make. That was something she’d hold over his head for the remainder of their acquaintance, bringing it up as often as possible just to make him squirm.

Once on her lap, she found she didn’t need to direct him as his hand naturally lifted to her neck. She raised her chin, allowing his long fingers to close in. Her skin was soft beneath his palm, pliant; she trusted him so much, probably too much. All he wanted in that moment was to apply pressure, feel the tendons of her neck strain against his palm as his hand snaked between her legs. Her eyes would widen- he wondered if she would fight against her bonds- as he took her against the bed, slamming every smartass comment and sarcastic remark out of her. 

He snapped himself out of the daydream, violently bringing himself back to the present. Reality wasn't much better. She was looking up at him with such genuine-looking arousal, it almost hurt to know it was all an act. Hearing the button click in her palm, he wrenched his hand away, worried that if he kept it there a second longer he'd loose control for real.

"Are we done here?" He asked, masking his desire with impatience.

"Sure."

Untying the ribbons was far easier than tying them, he found, and the moment she was freed they parted as if the work day had just finished and they were both desperate to get home. He went to his discarded shirt and she made a beeline towards the camera.

"I'll look over the photos later and send them off to my informant." She said as she turned off the camera.

"Sounds good."

He angled his body away from her as he buttoned his shirt, making sure that she couldn't see his trousers and the effect she had had on him.

"I was expecting to have to loosen you up a little more, but you can do bedroom eyes quite well."

His fingers paused on the buttons of his shirt as he looked over at her with amusement. 

"And how would you have 'loosened me up’?"

"I don't know, drinks or something."

"I can fuck someone without being drunk."

His statement lingered in the air and she busied herself with dismantling the tripod. Shrugging on his jacket, he turned back towards her fully, certain that all evidence of his arousal had dissipated.

"I'll wire the money over when I get it." She ventured.

He didn’t know why _this_ was the most awkward part. They had just been entangled with one another on a bed, partially clothed and they had been easier than this. Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t want to leave.

"Let me know how it goes." He said, passing her to leave the bedroom.

"Sure thing."

She went to the window, watching him as he left her building and crossed over the street, her fingers idly running over the ribbons.

* * *

"He fucking thought they were fake."

She arrived unannounced, as per usual, and dumped her purse angrily onto the bar. This time, she didn't wait for Zsasz to order her a drink, gesturing wildly at the bartender until they slid a drink over to her.

"What?"

"He thought they were shopped. We were too damn sexy, Zsasz."

Despite the playfulness in her voice he could still feel the anger rolling off of her in waves. He glanced at her to see her hunched over her drink, tapping the counter angrily with her nails.

"So what's plan B?"

"I'm thinking." She spat.

He looked at his own drink, his hand clenching unconsciously around the glass as a dark thought filtered into his head. He might have a plan B. 

"Maybe he has to catch us in the act."

He said it before he had the time to overthink it and she lowered her drink slowly, turning her head to look at him.

"What?"

"Let him catch us. We make a show in the window, he gets excited, bursts in. He gets what he thinks he wants, you get what you want."

"You're not suggesting murder?" She asked, holding a hand to her chest in mock-alarm. "I must be rubbing off on you."

Zsasz's lips lifted into a smirk and he shook his head as he took a drink. She rested her chin on her hand, loosing herself in thought.

"It could work." She said, a faraway look in her eyes. "I get my guy to give him my address, get him to try and persuade me to lower the price in person."

Her posture straightened and stormy expression cleared as the plan formed in her mind.

"Are you okay going along with this? He could be trouble." She suggested gingerly.

"I can handle myself."

She stood and swigged her drink, pushing his arm jovially. He was glad that he had eased her storm of a temper, but shoving his arm was a step too far.

"Thanks for the idea Zsasz." She said brightly. "I'll get in touch you when I need you again."

He nodded curtly as she left his side. What the fuck was he doing? He knew he was a masochist, but he didn’t know quite how deep that vein ran inside him. All of this, just to spend a few hours with an attractive women. He had practically the whole of Gotham at his feet, he didn’t need to beg for table scraps. He didn’t mind begging at her feet though, he thought to himself, smirking as he took a deep drink. He was fucked. 


	2. Chapter 2

Zsasz pulled up outside an unfamiliar house in the Gotham suburbs. He had been expecting to return to her place and was confused when she texted him a new address, but didn’t question it. Her reasoning was always sound, even if it didn’t make much sense to him. 

The place was a new build among a cluster of identical buildings and it took a while for him to find the right one. When he knocked on the door she peered cautiously through the side window before wrenching it open. Clearly, there was no time for pleasantries as she yanked him inside hurriedly, dragging him into the front room. She only stopped to explain herself when he was sitting on the window seat, her voice hurried and movements erratic.

"Thank you for coming at such short notice. I know an estate agent and she's lending me this place. I thought it better not to show the man where I really lived."

He nodded, her explanation clicking into place. Peering out of the large bay window, he could easily see out into the road and imagined that anyone standing outside could easily see into it as well.

"Do you see the car there, the silver one? That's where my guy on the inside, Scott, is. He'll tell us on the walkie talkie when our man arrives." She said, pointing out the device on a side table. "And I've got my 'husband' on speed dial just in case things go south."

She was almost pacing, bouncing on her heels and impatiently wringing her hands together. He noticed she had the ring on her finger again, ever particular about detail.

"And you're... you're still alright with kissing me?" She asked him softly.

Zsasz's jaw flexed as he looked to the floor. He bit back the urge to say that he had suggested it in the first place.

"Of course."

 _The bird is entering the nest_.

The walkie talkie crackled to life in the corner. Even in her tense state, she still had the presence of mind to roll her eyes.

"Oh, and Scott thinks he's in a fucking James Bond movie."

They both looked out of the window to see a sliver car rounding the corner and she practically jumped onto Zsasz’s lap. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she spoke to him in an urgent voice.

"Ground rules are off the table. This has to be believable so do whatever you want to me."

"That's a dangerous thing to say." He warned her, his eyes flashing.

"Shut up and kiss me."

She lunged forward, crushing their lips together just as a man stepped out of the car.

 _He's exiting the car_.

The stranger was far from either of their thoughts, their lips meeting igniting a spark that coursed through the both of them, overwhelming their senses and making something deep and primal rise within them. With the earth-shattering knowledge that he didn’t have to act, Zsasz ran his hands down the length of her back, possessively circling her waist before dipping lower. Both hands cradled the swell of her rear and squeezed, wrenching a noise from the back of her throat that was completely involuntary. There was no way that the stranger could hear her through the glass so the noise was purely for their own benefit, colour rising to her cheeks when she realised what she had done. 

_He's spotted you_.

It was only the crackle of the walkie talkie that brought them back to reality. She parted their mouths, breathing heavily as she looked into his eyes.

"Let's pretend to go upstairs." She gasped as she ran a fingertip over his lips.

They kissed once more before she rose from his lap, pulling him from the window and out of sight. The moment they rounded the corner, she started frantically undoing the buttons on her shirt.

"Muss up my hair." She ordered him as she re-buttoned her shirt slightly skewed.

He did as she asked, ruffling his hand through her hair. The doorbell rang and they looked at one another. She took a couple of deep breaths, grinning stupidly with excitement.

"Showtime." She said, forcing her smile to fade and replacing it with a stricken expression.

She went to the door while Zsasz hung back, hoping to use his entrance to help in the proceedings. He listened as he unbuttoned his own shirt, trying to tell the stranger’s age from his voice alone.

"Hello?"

He could hear her voice wavering, trying to make herself sound as shaken up as possible.

"Scott said you had a shipment to sell."

"Oh."

"But I see you're busy."

"Busy?" She repeated breathlessly, letting her face fall.

Feeling that this was his opportunity, Zsasz came to the door to stand behind her, pulling it further back so he could see the kid for himself. He was young, his trainers expensive enough to pay someone’s rent for several months, and he had the cockiness to go with them too.

She looked back with fake surprise which turned into genuine shock when she saw that Zsasz had removed his shirt. She genuinely struggled for words as he loomed over her, all threat and overpowering masculinity.

"Who's this?" Zsasz asked.

"No-one." She responded, finding her tongue. "Go back upstairs." 

“Is he threatening you?"

He was playing the protective boyfriend, something that he hadn't had much experience with. She wasn’t afraid of his acting skills, however, the thing she was concerned about was him coming off too strong and scaring the guy off before she’d had a chance to make the deal. 

"No, we were just discussing the shipment that I wanted to sell." She said, turning back to the stranger and smiling apologetically.

"About that price."

The stranger crossed his arms over his chest, a smug look on his face. Turns out, she didn’t need to worry about scaring him off. He apparently had an ego the size of the Empire State Building, something that not even a menacing Victor Zsasz could demolish.

"I think that's something we're going to have to discuss, don't you? If you don't want your husband finding out about your little-" He drifted off, gesturing at Zsasz. "...side piece."

"Alright." She agreed quickly. "We can negotiate. But only if you promise not to tell him."

The man nodded and they bartered over the price, obviously way lower than she had offered him in the first place but still high enough for her to make a profit on the bum shipment she’d received. They settled on a price and shook hands, sealing the deal.

"You bring cash and I'll give you the address to the shipment box." She said, her hand still in his.

They agreed on a drop point, in the car park of a restaurant nearby because she didn't want him to run into her 'husband'- and by that, she meant that she didn’t want him to see the ‘for sale’ sign being hammered into the front lawn. Then he left, the two of them watching him until he had gotten back into his car and driving away.

_The bird has left the nest._

She turned back to Zsasz, her grin widening. His own expression was neutral; there was something about the exchange that left him feeling uneasy. He had come to trust his gut instincts after years of dealing with gangsters and this had felt too clean, too simple.

"Well, glad that’s over." She said, the relief evident in her voice. "He didn't even bring any goons. I was expecting him to bring at least two people."

She didn’t seem to have the same suspicions as she went over to the walkie-talkie and buzzed over to her inside man. She explained how the deal had gone and assured him that she'd send over the money as soon as the drop was completed. A few moments later there was a knock at the door and she handed Scott the other half of the walkie-talkie, reassuring him again about getting him his money. Zsasz watched intently as they talked but Scott seemed just as relieved as she did, not a hint of suspicion on his face.

Scott left to go back to his own car and she closed the door behind him. Turning back to Zsasz, her eyes caught on his bare torso and her breathing hitched. They could both hear the sound of the car starting up up outside and Zsasz stooped to pick up his shirt as it drove away. It was exactly as awkward as the aftermath of the photo shoot, the fact that they had now kissed relieving none of the tension that buzzed between them. 

"I'll, um- I'll wire the money over to you. After the drop."

He looked to her as he buttoned up his shirt. Her eyes were wide and apprehensive as she waited for him to speak, her fingers fiddling with the ring she had worn for the occasion. His own fingers itched to be on her body again, crush his chest against hers and pin her in place with his lips.

"Don't bother." He said, his voice thick. "This was fun."

"Yeah." Her eyes lit up and she breathed out a sigh of relief. "I told you it would be."

They fell into silence again as he redressed himself fully, the awkwardness hanging over them like a heavy rain cloud. He wondered what the etiquette was when saying goodbye to someone you had snogged in order to con a cocky little upstart into buying a shipment of bum coke. He couldn’t kiss her again, that was far too dangerous, but a handshake seemed far too formal in this situation. All that was left was an awkward middle ground that left him paralysed once he had finished dressing himself.

She watched him as his hands stilled, the conflict raging in his eyes. Then his posture straightened and expression hardened, her eyes watching him warily as he approached her. Leaning over, he took her hand and lifted it to his lips. Her chest tightened as he kissed the back of her hand, his lips lingering for just a fraction too long before dropping her hand. 

"See you around." He mumbled as he turned, passing through the door without glancing back.

* * *

The drop was supposed to go smoothly. What a load of bullshit.

Zsasz, having been present when all the details were straightened out, knew exactly where to go and at what time. It wasn’t that he expected things to go south necessarily, but he still carried that uneasiness that he had felt when the plans had been made. It was just a precaution, he told himself as he parked a street over and brought out his binoculars. Besides, he had nothing better to do this afternoon.  


He watched as a car pulled up into the empty lot and she stepped out, propping herself against the hood as she waited. Even from this distance, he could see the glint from a ring on her finger. Meticulous until the end.

A white van squealed into the parking lot and Zsasz shouldered his way out of his car almost immediately. He watched her body ready into a combat position as as the van swung out in front of her. Two men jumped out and she did her best to keep them away, assaulting them with kicks and punches, but there was only so much she could do when she was outnumbered. He couldn’t shoot at such a distance with her in the mix so he focused on getting to her before they drove away.

He arrived just as one of them butted their gun against the back of her head, knocking her out. The two of them handled her limp body, pushing it into the back of the van. Zsasz waited behind the open door, his gun close to his chest as he waited for them to shut the doors, to catch them off guard. He grabbed the one closest to him as the door swung shut, shoving him onto the floor and his blood exploded onto the pavement.

The second wasn’t so easy to take down. Having a couple of seconds to prepare gave him a head start that Zsasz struggled to catch up with, his gun knocked from his hand as the goon knocked his legs from beneath him. A third man jumped down from the van, outnumbering him yet again and dropping onto his back. He pinned Zsasz in place, pulling his arms behind his back and binding them haphazardly with duct tape.

Zsasz hissed expletives into the tarmac, violently trying to wrench himself free as the two pulled him up and tossed him into the van. He landed next to her, her hands already bound behind her back. He had been in these kinds of situations before but never at the expense of another person. There was something disgustingly virtuous about it, looking down at her unconscious body, his body aching from where he had defended himself.

The van stopped after a while and the men dragged them outside, anticipating Zsasz’s escape attempt and grabbing him as soon as they opened the doors. They were rough with their captives, conscious or otherwise, as they led them into a disintegrating building. Zsasz kept his eye on the man carrying her, a burning hatred in his gaze when he jostled her further up onto his shoulder. They arrived at a concrete room that Zsasz thought would be ideal for torture- the floor would absorb any blood and the walls provided the ideal acoustics for screaming.

They were thrown into it, the door locked behind them, the silence of the room deafening after getting used to the constant rumbling of the van beneath them. They had at least had the courtesy to prop her against the wall and he slumped down the wall beside her, his eyes boring into the floor.

She groaned beside him and he watched her head loll upwards, her eyes scrunching as she struggled to open them against the harsh fluorescent light.

"Fucking hell." She groaned, and he watched her shift her arms, only to find that they were tied behind her.

"Morning."

Zsasz's voice forced her to snap awake, her eyes flinging open as she looked towards him.

"What are you doing here?" 

It had only been moments since she had woken from blunt force trauma, and yet she was already seething at the mere sight of him.

"I watched the drop."

"Why the fuck did you do that? I’m not a child, I don’t need you to watch over me.” She spat. “And now we’re both stuck here, are you happy?”

He could tell that she was embarrassed. Embarrassed that she hadn’t picked up on the warning signs, how suspicious the drop was. But it was too late for either of them to change their minds now and he had his own issues with being taken down by two average goons. So he simply rested his head against the wall, his eyes on the only door in the room.

"Why do you always have to make it so damn complicated?" He muttered eventually, extending his long legs in front of him.

"Because, if I just sold a shitload of useless coke to a mob boss, then there'd be a hit on my head in five minutes and someone like you would be gunning me down in an alley somewhere. If I'm clever about it, they're so angry they don't think straight and I have time to make my getaway. I get what I want, they learn a lesson, everyone wins," she said, "usually."

There was silence. They both knew how this game worked. The only way they were getting out of this situation was by overpowering their captor when they came to gloat. That made this a waiting game, and with nothing else to do apart from run through their particular misgivings about the other person, it left tension bubbling beneath the surface, threatening to spill out.

"Why didn't you want me to be your husband?" Zsasz asked abruptly and she turned to him, amused.

"You're still bitter about that? It's because if you were playing my husband, then I wouldn't have been able to get into bed with you half naked, would I?"

It took a few moments before she realised what she had said and her smile dropped. She bit her tongue harshly as his dark eyes shifted to her, full of dangerous intrigue. 

"Alright." She said in a low, confessional voice. "I made this whole thing up because I wanted... you to notice me, I guess. The photos, the meeting, the bum drugs- well, the drugs were real, but there are easier ways to con someone out of their money."

She smiled to herself, shaking her head.

"Imagine. Creating a whole scenario just to get someone in your bed. How stupid is that?"

Her smile faded again as she looked to him, her eyes soft. He couldn’t remember if he had ever seen her like this, so unguarded and vulnerable. Whenever they were together she always wore a mask of aloofness that meant he had never truly _seen_ her, not like this. And it was refreshing to see the real person, to see the woman behind the mask for once. 

"I'm sorry I dragged you into all of this. You're clearly not that into me."

Zsasz let out a burst of laughter that echoed off the bare walls and she looked to him, concerned.

”What?"

"Not into you? Are you fucking kidding me?"

The vulnerability was gone in an instant as she squared her shoulders defensively, arching her eyebrow at him.

"You are? Could've fooled me." She shrugged aggressively. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why didn't you?”

She bit her lip, lowering her gaze as if by staring at the floor hard enough they could go back in time and redo everything she felt had gone wrong.

"Because you terrify the shit out of me Zsasz." She responded eventually, her voice wavering. "I couldn't handle a rejection from you."

He cocked his knee up and rested his wrist on his knee. His hand flexed as he struggled for a response equally as heartfelt and revealing as her own.

“And I didn’t want you to think that all that I was was trying to do was get into your pants. You’re more than that.”

They both risked a glance at one another, seeing the other person for just a fraction of a second before looking away again. Her eyes were wide and terrified, his dark and full of earnest. Closing her eyes, she banged her head against the brick wall behind her, the crack echoing off the walls. 

“Fucking hell, Zsasz. Since when did we start acting like a trope from a romcom?”

He smirked, dark eyes shifting to her.

"Come closer."

She raised her head off the wall, fixing him with a look that was suspicious, albeit hopeful. He rolled his eyes at her look, his legs shifting.

"I have a knife in my waistband."

The suspicion died, replaced with annoyance that she couldn't hide even if she had wanted to.

"Why didn't you say that earlier?" 

"Slipped my mind."

"You dick."

He looked down at his lap suggestively and she huffed, scooting across the floor with some difficulty to get between his legs. She raised her bound hands to his belt, running her thumb along his waistband. 

"Where is it?"

"Lower."

His voice was low and heavy against her ear and a shudder ran through her body. Her cheeks coloured at her reaction to his voice and she promptly elbowed him in the gut as a response.

"Fuck off."

"To your left." He uttered genuine directions this time which she followed with her movements. 

His lips twisted upwards when he saw the goose bumps rise in her neck, his voice next to her ear still affecting her whether she liked it or not. He leaned forward to brush his lips against the sensitive skin, more goose bumps rising as he did so.

”I hope you're not getting off on this, pervert.” She said harshly over her shoulder. “I’m trying to get us out of here.” 

His grin widened and he continued to skim his lips across the length of her neck, feeling her lean unconsciously in towards his touch. Her hand came across something solid and she closed her hand around it, extracting the knife from the hiding place in his waistband. 

"Got it. Now untie me."

"Nuh-uh. Me first."

She pulled away from his lips and turned to look at him with some difficulty. He languidly stared back at her, raising a nonexistent eyebrow as she tried to challenge him.

"And why do you get to be untied first?" She asked mock-sweetly.

"You have the knife."

She sighed heavily and shuffled out from between his legs, the two of them working so they could get back-to-back with one another. Her hands fumbled to find his own and she wedged the blade in between them once she had, struggling to cut the duct tape. She worked slowly, deliberately taking her time to ensure that she didn’t hurt him as she severed his bonds. The sound of tape snapping meant that the last of it had been cut and he pulled at his hands roughly, the sound of tape tearing across his skin echoing through the room. Bringing his newly freed hands forward, he examining the reddened skin of his wrists before taking the knife from her.

He pushed her back against the wall forcefully, raising himself onto her lap and slamming his hands either side of her face. Instead of the fear that most people showed when he tried such a stunt, she was simply smiling up at him, a glint in her eye. She pulled at her bound hands reflexively as he lifted the knife to her throat.

"Shouldn't we blow this joint? We don’t know how dangerous this guy is yet.” She said, absolutely no sense of urgency in her voice.

”I’m the most dangerous guy in this city. And you’re the one who set me up, made me pose for your stupid photos.”

”And you’re the one who followed me to a drop like a concerned parent following me to my first date.”

”Touché.”

He dipped down as if to kiss her when they heard footsteps echo through the empty walls. Without a moments hesitation, Zsasz pushed himself from her lap to sit beside her against the wall again, holding his hands behind his back as if they were still bound. He winked just as the door before them creaked open and in stepped the cocky young man she had tried to defraud. Behind him stood two armed guards- she wondered if he would still look so confident if he knew the state that Zsasz was in right now. 

"I was warned about you." He said, crossing his arms over his chest. “No-one knew your face, of course, but they said that I should watch out for a woman trying to con me out of my money."

"I really did have a shipment to sell." She informed him genially. 

"Yeah. Of ruined coke."

Pulling a baggie of a white substance from his jacket, he threw it at their feet and Zsasz recognised it from when she had thrown it onto the bar at the very start of this whole venture.

"Ah, shit. Time to move again." She sighed, genuine exasperation lacing her voice.

"You think you're getting out of here alive?"

She raised her eyebrows, a little taken aback.

"You're going to kill me? That's not cool man, I was just trying to make some money."

"Oh, I'm going to kill you. And your little boyfriend here."

"Oh no, we're not-" She trailed off, giggling to herself. "You seriously think I'd get with this guy? I picked him so you could get it into your thick skull that I was cheating. He's got a memorable face."

The young man cocked his hip, his eyes running over Zsasz who was holding himself back from getting involved in her negotiations.

"Not very vocal, is he? Is he like that in the bedroom?"

"I wouldn't know."

She wasn't rising to any of his jabs and that seemed to irritate him. Snapping at one of his henchmen, they produced a brown envelope and handed it to him. 

"Then how do you explain these?"

He dug into the envelope, taking out three photographs and examining them. He dropped each of them onto the floor in turn- it was her picks from the photo shoot, the ones she had thought looked the most sexy and incriminating. From the corner of her eye she could see Zsasz’s gaze shift over them. He hadn’t ever seen them before. 

"These were for you, dumbass." She said. "We took those photos on a timer. It was the least romantic thing I've ever done."

He crouched down before her, extending his hand to touch her cheek. Zsasz finally tore his gaze away from the photos, watching her flinch as the young man touched her. His jaw flexed; he didn’t like the look in the kid’s eyes or how close he was to her right now. 

"You took these for me?"

"Yeah, I hope they didn't excite you too much. I'd hate to imagine your filthy little hands jerking off to my body.” 

"Oh, you'd hate that, would you?"

He leaned in even closer to her, tipping her chin up as she stared at him, almost daring him to come closer. Zsasz watched him with murderous eyes, his anger barely contained as the kid inched closer and closer to her face.

The young man closed his eyes and lurched forward, but with reflexes faster than he could keep track of, Zsasz lunged forward, grabbing his neck and wrenching him to his feet. The two guards jumped to defend him but Zsasz held him between himself and the guards so they couldn’t make a move without hurting the person who payed their cheques. The kid was rightly terrified, his eyes wide and panicked as Zsasz held the blade to his neck.

"What are you doing?" She hissed at him from the floor.

"Get those two out or I'll slit your throat." Zsasz ordered, pressing the blade firmly against his neck.

The young man cringed, raising his hands slightly in submission. 

"Leave us."

"And close the door." Zsasz shouted after them.

The two guards looked at one another before shuffling out of the room. They obviously weren’t paid enough to put their life on the line for their boss. 

Zsasz pushed him roughly against the wall where she was still sat, forcing him down into a sitting position beside her. Pressing his forearm against the kid’s throat, she leaned forward and Zsasz used his free hand to cut her bonds.  There was the same snapping tape sound and she pulled at her hands, being far more cautious than he was as she tore the tape from her skin. 

Once she brought her hands forward, Zsasz tossed her the knife before digging into his jacket. He brought out another knife he had secreted on his person and started to search his hostage for a more useful weapon.

"You had one in your jacket?" She asked him, dumbfounded.

Zsasz paused in his pat down to look at her innocently. The young man looked between the two of them, cleverly keeping his mouth shut.

"You made me dig around in your pants and you had a knife in your jacket this whole time?"

His lips twisted into a smirk and she poked her tongue in her cheek, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You're impossible."

Zsasz produced a gun from the man’s waistband and chucked it at her. She went to the door, Zsasz watching curiously as she beckoned one of the guards back into the room. One on one, it was a fairer fight, but one where the guard still ended up on the floor out-cold. She dug into their pockets, swearing when she didn’t find what she wanted. 

Beckoning the other guard inside, Zsasz watched from beside his hostage, ready to jump in if she was in danger of getting overpowered. He needn’t have worried, however, as she butted her gun against the guard’s head, his unconscious body slumping down next to his colleague. This time she found what she wanted and brought out the same roll of duct tape that had been used to restrain her. She handed it to Zsasz triumphantly who took it and bound the kid’s hands. As an afterthought, he also covered his mouth, a sick glimmer in his eyes as he did so. 

As Zsasz lifted himself from the floor, she took one of the guard’s guns and handed it to him just in case they came across any more resistance as they left the building. Then she moved to take Zsasz’s place beside the kid, smiling gently as she reached forward to caress his cheek, her hand dragging down before tightening on his chin. His eyes widened and her smile dropped as she dug her fingernails into his skin. 

”I don’t want to hear about you ever again.” She warned him, her voice low and dangerous. “People warned you about my cons so they must have known about how much of this city I own too. I wouldn’t go stirring any shit, especially about me or my business.”

”I don’t know, I’d quite like an excuse to break his fingers.”

He paled and she lifted her hand, stopping Zsasz before he went too far.

”Ease up, Zsasz. He knows what we’re capable of.”

Rising to her feet, she went to the door. Zsasz paused before following her, looking down at the young man bound and gagged on the floor before him.  


”Maybe drugs aren’t for you.” He offered helpfully. "You should invest in properties or something.”

Following her out of the building, they fortunately didn’t come across anyone else on their way out. When they finally stepped out onto the sidewalk they took in the fresh air and freedom for a second, blinking in the light.

"You could've just shot them." Zsasz said, his eyes on the distant sky.

”You never know when someone might come in handy.”

He shrugged, as if saying 'to each to their own'. Her expression hardened and she looked over at him, lips downturned.

"What you did back there was reckless." 

"Got us out, didn't it?"

"My flirting was working just fine."

He stepped closer and she felt that same overwhelming feeling she had felt when he had threatened the kid at the door, the one that left her tongue tied and speechless. 

"I didn't like him touching you."

His voice was husky and she pushed at his chest futilely. 

"Don't get possessive, Zsasz."

She tried to keep her voice light but she couldn’t hide the shake in it. He dipped his head down and kissed her firmly and passionately, one hand caressing her neck. As he pulled away, she took her arm from behind her back and revealed the brown envelope she had snuck out of the room. 

"Hope he doesn't miss these."

Grinning slyly, she handed him the envelope and he tipped out the photographs, examining each of them in turn.

”These are only some of them.” She said, examining his unreadable expression. “I can send you the rest if you want.”

”There are more?” He asked, raising his naked eyebrows.

She laughed, nudging his arm in an attempt to tear his eyes from the photos. It didn’t work.

"I guess you can save them for later."

Her teasing finally got him to lift his gaze as he pinned her with a hungry, dark expression. 

"I was hoping I'd be doing something a little more... solid later."

His voice was suggestive and she found her lips spreading into a grin.

"That can be arranged."


End file.
